


the heat within

by thefateofivalice



Series: climbing the crystal tower [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blowjobs, F/M, Female Protagonist, HOO BOY WE GOT A LOT GOING ON HERE, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Oral Sex, Porn Without Plot, Romantic Porn, Vaginal Sex, a rather bold use of italics with this one, also i just reread it and holy shit I made them say their real names a lot., but ykw while we're here in hell we may as well FUCK up some grammar, first of all they're in love so jot that down, more chapters to come with updated tags, nervous main character, safe sex, will this be multichapters? who knows. i sure don't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-07-27 06:31:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20041471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefateofivalice/pseuds/thefateofivalice
Summary: she's loved him for five years, he's loved her for over 100. after rekindling their romance, she goes into heat and can't face him. he's more than willing to help, but...shoutout to @darthsuki's "tell me to stay (and I will)", which largely inspired this writing. highly recommended read!https://archiveofourown.org/works/19814008/chapters/46914325





	1. 1

A’zaela finds every excuse she can to kiss the Exarch after the first. A small peck on the cheek here, a soft kiss to his lips there. Every time she pulls away, he grins and pulls her back for at least one more. 

“I’m making up for lost time,” she says. Which is more than true. Though it had been only five years for her, over a century had passed for him. Neither of them knew when that time would be up, and neither wanted to think about it either. For now, whenever she was around, they would continue to regain what time they had lost. 

Most of their kisses are behind closed doors, either in the ocular or her inn room. Other times, though, she’ll take him to the highest point in the Crystarium and kiss him until their lips are bruised, their hearts pounding, begging for more. 

This time, they end up a tangle of limbs, him on his back with her above him. His hair had been pulled from its braid and now lay splayed out behind him. He wore a dopey, satisfied grin that brought the look together, doing nothing but reminding her how lucky she was. 

She moves to straddle his waist, hoping for a reaction. She grabs his wrists and pins them above him, then leans in close so their noses are almost touching. 

His chest shudders with a surprised gasp, the sound and sensation sending a pleasant thrill through her. He moves his chin up, trying to kiss her, but she moves back just a bit so he misses. 

“Zaela,” he rasps. 

“Raha,” she replies. 

She just wants to drink in the sight of him beneath her. His face, hot to the touch, mouth lightly quivering. His eyes filled with want. She imagines she looks similar--she certainly feels the same. 

She moves in to kiss his neck, gently sucking and letting her tongue swirl against his skin. He tenses, and a noise of surprise crawls from his throat, but leans his head back to give her better access. 

Without thinking, she grinds her hips down against him—an almost involuntary action brought about by her sudden need. 

A sound escapes Graha’s lips that strikes her so fiercely that she shudders. 

They’re both so shocked by it that they pull back, equal parts anxious and turned on. 

They stare at one another, trying to catch their breath. A strange sensation settles over A’zaela’s skin, a warmth that she hasn’t felt before. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s strong, and she feels her face suddenly flush from the sensation.

She feels so... _ warm.  _

Her mind races. A heat settles in her belly, and all she can think is that she wants  _ more.  _ She usually isn’t like this. She’s craved touch before, typically before her monthly, but she never  _ ached _ for it. Not to mention she was hardly ever on top. Her partner almost always took the reins in situations like these. G’raha can, she knows this for a fact -- she remembers how he offered to lead the charge of Holminister Switch back when he was still just the Exarch. Even now, she can feel the strength of his body beneath her, the definition of his arms that are still pinned above him. 

“I...” she starts, grappling for words. Her middle suddenly aches, a craving for sex that she’s never felt before. She wants to grind down on him, harder, and all she can think about is him, so deep inside her that she can see stars. 

She replays the cry of pleasure he let out over and over again in her head, and it only makes her more tense, more needy. 

A’zaela rolls off of him, and she’s on her feet in seconds. 

“I need to retire for the evening, I think,” she says before dashing off down the stairs. 

The Exarch can feel his heart beat with every tap of her feet down those stairs. He moves his hand to fix his robes, and he finds that he’s straining against his boxers beneath. 

All G’raha Tia can think of is her frenzied expression and how  _ good  _ she smelled, and if what he thought just happened actually happened. 

-

A’zaela Linh has never experienced a heat before, and she’s so, so utterly thankful for it. 

The second the door shuts behind her, she’s ripping her clothing off, finding that no matter how much wind comes in from the window, nothing can cool her down. She takes off everything but her panties, and even that isn’t enough. She finds herself posed beside her bed, legs spread. She forces her arms on top of the covers. She won’t touch herself. She  _ won’t _ . 

She craves a cold shower.  _ Anything _ . Anything to get rid of the infernal heat coursing through her.

_ I can’t,  _ she thinks, shivering from need.  _ I can’t believe this is happening.  _

Her body sends another wave of pleasure through her and she cries out, hips grinding against nothing. She shakes uncontrollably, her anxiety and need sending mixed signals through her. 

She never cared enough to learn about heats. They were rare — so, so incredibly rare. A trait that had died off decades ago. They only happened under such strict circumstances, and she had never met them before. Most miqo’te women never did — it was almost always the men that went into heat, and it was always a Nunh. All she did know was that G’raha had sent off this reaction within her, and she didn’t think there was any good explanation for it. 

But as soon as his name crossed her mind, she let out a low groan. Even though she tries to direct her thoughts elsewhere, her mind betrays her. She imagines his hands on her naked body, and she grinds her teeth together. 

It isn’t that she doesn’t want it. She does. Gods help her, she’d wanted him far before this, and she will long after. But this? This frenzied version of her, begging to be fucked raw? She doesn’t want him to see that. 

In her mind's eye, his hands roam over every part of her. Her arms, her breasts, her torso. His touch would be like a fire on her already heated skin. They find her hips, her thighs, and she can’t stand it — the vision fast forwards to him with his hand down her panties, gently rolling her clit between his fingers. 

She imagines his hands on her hips, guiding her so her ass is in the air. He pets her tail, and she lets out a pathetic mewl that escapes her lips in real life. He continues, slipping his cock inside her so easily, and she marvels at how easily he fills her up. 

It’s what her body wants. To be fucked, and fucked, and fucked. To find release. 

It wants  _ him _ . 

Before her hands can slip down into her panties, she smells him. He’s close—coming toward her door.

_ No! Gods, no! _ her mind cries.  _ Please, just let him pass. I can work through this with just his scent. I know I can. Just let him pass! _

No such luck. She hears a knock at her door, and she lets out a noise that’s halfway to a sob. 

“Zaela?” He asks. It’s all she can do to keep from coming on the spot. Her name, her true name spilling from his lips...she can only imagine the ways he’d say it if he were underneath her, and she had him buried inside of her. 

“You left in a rush earlier. Is everything alright?” he calls, worry coloring his tone. 

“Yes!” She says. Her body cries,  _ ‘No!’ _

“Yes, I’m fine,” she grits out, firmer this time. “I, ah...” 

She can’t stand it. She grabs a pillow and puts it between her legs. She starts grinding against it, trying so hard not to gasp at the desperate friction. 

“I didn’t feel so well!” She lies, hips thrusting against the pillow, fucking it within an inch of her life. “I almost got sick. I m-might take the rest of the day to myself, if that...is okay...”

The pillow is nice, but it’s not him. It can’t be inside of her. She pulls down her panties and slips two fingers inside. Not enough, not nearly enough. But it would have to be. 

“Zaela...” he says. “Can I come in?” 

“No!” She shouts. “No, please, I...can’t risk getting you sick.”

“Zaela,” he repeats, quieter. “I know what’s happening. You don’t need to hide it from me. I...want to help you.”

The admission sings through her body and settles heavily in her belly. 

But she had already made her decision.

Shaking, A’zaela removes her hand, stands, and makes her way to the door. She opens it, not caring that she’s one article of clothing away from being naked. G’raha’s eyes land on her breasts almost instantly, and as he forces his gaze back up to her face, she can see how flustered he is. 

However nervous he’s feeling, she can guarantee that she is much, much worse. 

A’zaela swallows, her heart pounding. She can smell him so much easier here. It’s intoxicating and the way it settles on her skin makes her want to grab him and pull him inside.

“I can’t,” she gasps. She grinds her teeth and shuts the door just enough so he can only see her face. 

His eyes widen. She shakes her head. 

“I don’t want...I don’t want you to see me like this,” she whispers. “I don’t want this heat to be the reason why...”

G’raha’s eyes soften, and he looks at her with an expression so kind that she shivers. 

She finishes her statement in a rush. 

“When we do have sex, it won’t be because of a bodily function I can’t ignore,” she says. “I want you—aah...the way  _ I _ want you. Not...how my instincts want you. They make me...not m-myself...—I’m sorry—“

She closes the door in his face. 

She puts her back against the door, and while he’s still on the other side, she reaches down and starts fucking herself again. And with a few final, decisive stokes, she brings herself to oblivion—an orgasm that she’s never felt before, one so hard and hot that she cries out, loudly, knowing he can hear. 

For a few moments, she’s sated, but that’s all the relief she gets. The fire is back, and it’s not quenched in the slightest. 

Behind the door, G’raha hears her climax. The thumps against the door, her cry of pleasure, sounding off her moments of bliss. 

He doesn’t come with her, which is no small effort on his part. He’s lucky that he makes it to the Ocular before his orgasm spills over, brought about by everything he’d just witnessed. 

-

By the third day, A’zaela finally reaches a plateau. It’s subtle, but she finally notices that she can go a few hours without needing to cum, and her body temperature finally falls to an acceptable level. 

The only good thing that came from this was that she’s slept more these three days than she has in months. After the first three or four orgasms, she can’t keep her eyes open, and falls into a deep slumber until being rudely awoken again by her ongoing problem. 

G’raha has gone out of his way to ease her stress from afar. Every day there would be a change of sheets, different meals and such outside her door. All of which she used gratefully. 

It was made better because she could smell him on those sheets—he must have washed them himself, she realizes—which makes it exceedingly easy to lose herself in them. 

_ One last time, _ she thinks. She lays back on her bed and slips her fingers into her underwear — after having refused to remove them whenever she touched herself as a punishment of sorts — and spreads her legs.

It had gotten harder to orgasm the last few days, a fact that was both infuriating yet amazing whenever she did cum. It also meant her hormones were regulating, which was a good sign. This time, she intends to take it slow anyway, tired of the frantic pace that she’s been going at it. 

She started off fucking herself, two fingers pushing in and out as she panted happily. She forced herself to be quiet most of the time, as she’d leave her window open, and no one in the Crystarium needed to hear what was going on. Now, her room seemed to have cooled down, her window was shut, and she had very little inhibitions left. She let herself moan and pant, enjoying her ministrations a little bit more. 

After a while, she moves her hand up to her clit. Her fervent hands make her overly sensitive to touch, which makes her fingers feel all the sweeter when she rubbed. Oh, she loved to be slow and gentle with herself, especially after a few days of going so rough. She circles her clit lazily, getting under the hood and relishing in the electricity that ran through her. 

The heat had made A’zaela think of G’raha almost non-stop. Now was no different. She closes her eyes and imagined his tongue was on her instead of her finger. He would eat her out so delicately, yet determined to bring her to bliss. And if he were to finger her — she would be cumming in seconds. 

But she keeps her original pace. Slow, almost agonizingly so. Just relishing the thought of his mouth on her. Her hands would tangle in his hair and massage his scalp. He would moan, and she would feel the vibrations. She would whisper his name, and he would...

“G’raha,” she says aloud, testing his name. She instantly shuts her mouth again, fully embarrassed. It felt  _ nice,  _ but wrong. They had only ever kissed, and saying his name while she was lost in her own ecstasy felt like an invasion of his privacy. 

Even if he  _ had  _ offered to help her.

There’s a knock on the door. She stops what she’s doing and jolts into a sitting position. Truthfully, she’s grateful -- just yesterday she wouldn’t have even entertained the thought of opening the door. Though she still doesn’t exactly want company...she wants to prove to herself that she really is feeling better. She takes a moment to pull on a shirt and a pair of shorts, and to wash her hands before opening the door. 

When she sees G’raha standing there, relief spreads through her. Some parts of her still tense with want, but it’s nothing like the fire she had started with. Not to mention, her nose hadn’t picked up on the fact that he was close. The past few days, she had known instantly when he had entered the hall that led to her room. Today, she hadn’t known at all.

She smiles at him. A small, weak smile that shows how happy she is to see him. 

“Raha,” she says quietly. She doesn’t really know how else to continue -- she had just moaned his name not even minutes before. She’s embarrassed and guilty down to her core. But more than anything, she’s glad he’s here. He didn’t seem upset by any of it. In fact, he was already smiling back at her. 

“Zaela,” he replies. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just thought to ask...how you’ve been getting along.” 

He blushes at the pause in his sentence, and she laughs. 

“Um. I’ve been fine, thank you. You...helped me out a lot. I’ll be back out adventuring in another day or two.” 

He takes in a breath and nods. “Full glad am I to hear it. Some people have been asking after you. Perhaps saying fell ill was not my wisest decision, what with everybody worried about your well being.” 

She rubs her hands over her arms absentmindedly. She feels terrible for having him deal with all of this just so she could save face. 

“I cannot thank you enough,” she says. She pauses a moment, thinking before she acts. She opens the door just a bit more so she can reach out to hold his hand. 

He looks up at her in surprise, his ears wiggling happily at the top of his head. She smiles. 

“I don’t think I can invite you inside in good faith quite yet. Another day or two. Maybe three so I can cool down. Then, um…” She squeezes his hand. “If you want...” 

With a sudden surge of confidence she might have seen from him back when they were on the First, G’raha brings her hand up to his lips and gently kisses it. 

“I’ve waited over a hundred years,” he says. “I can wait a few days more.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the crystal exarch; pines for the warrior of light in front of God  
me, having a sexual awakening: 
> 
> anyway, thanks so much for reading, hope you guys enjoyed. would love feedback, I don't usually write this kind of stuff
> 
> follow me @ thelegendofivalice on tumblr or @gillspeaks1819 on twitter


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath of the chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things to note - a'zaela's an amnesiac. I mentioned it once in this part, I think

All in all, her heat lasts three days, but A’zaela feels the effects of it for about a week. Immediately after, she’s sore in ways she didn’t think possible. Not in any pleasant or sexy way, either — her hands were quicker to cramp, her thighs ached and her jaw was sore from grinding her teeth to keep from calling out. 

So despite saying she was ready to sleep with G’raha, her body most certainly wasn’t. She was quick to learn that, in her case, there was such a thing as too much. 

She took it as a sign to leave. She was never one to stay indoors for too long. Even during the short times where her heat would calm down to a simmer, she would open her window and stare out at the night sky to simply get a taste of the outdoors. 

A few days after she had thanked G’raha for his aid, A’zaela was out adventuring again, as she’d promised she would be. For a few days, she let her mind focus on nothing more than the wind in her hair and the lance on her back. Before she was a Warrior of Light, she had just been an adventurer. Now was the best time to remind herself of that. 

Yet...despite telling herself that she was just adventuring, her mind couldn’t help but wander. As much as she tried to forget her sheer embarrassment over going into heat, the world seemed intent on reminding her at every corner. A flash of red hair -- which had belonged to a hume woman. The sound of someone happily singing near the lake in Lakeland -- that had been a Ronso man. At one point, she was so distracted that she hadn’t noticed how ruffled her Amaro had gotten until it bucked her off entirely. When she pulled herself up, she spotted a plant that looked strangely phallic in nature. It was then that she rolled over onto her stomach and let out a frustrated yell. 

Truth be told, she was terrified. Would she go into heat again? What exactly had triggered it? 

Did G’raha even want her as much as she wanted him?

Her hands ball into fists, and she feels a familiar wave of shame roll over her. 

Perhaps it was silly to think that he didn’t want her. He had said that he wanted to help. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that her heat had put them both in an uncomfortable position. The truth was that she didn’t have a huge sex drive. What would he be expecting? More than she could give? Then again, he always claimed he was an old man. What did that bring into the picture? Then there was the matter of her heat. Would it happen again? She’d heard that it was seasonal. She didn’t think she could handle it coming back. She was far too busy to be worrying about being incapacitated for days on end. 

The only thing she could do was ask, but for now, she was considering throwing herself headfirst into the lake and hoping that Bismarck would swallow her whole. 

-

A’zaela’s words put him off-kilter for the rest of the week. 

Had she known that what she’d said would haunt him? He’d been thinking about sleeping with her since they met in Mor Dhona all those years ago. They’d shared a tent together, then — it was hard not to consider it, despite him holding her in the highest regards. It was especially difficult when she would curl up beside him, and he would wake to her forehead placed gently against his back. 

He may have even woken to his arm around her once. He hadn’t said anything to her about it, as he’d — thank the Gods — woken up first and quickly pulled away. But after that, he had only longed to do it again. To bury his face in her hair. Just to share her warmth. 

And now she put a date on when they would have sex. 

He was both elated and an absolute wreck. 

Months ago, if someone had told the Crystal Exarch that he would be days away from making love to his hero — who had explicitly told him that she wanted him — he might have combusted. He acted calm in the moment, bringing her hand to his lips in a gentlemanly kiss, but once he had turned and made his way back to the Ocular, his mind had just about stopped working. 

She went into heat. Because of me. She wants to have sex with me. She wants to have sex with me. 

Wicked White. 

His biggest fear was that he wasn’t going to be good enough. She was a hero, undoubtedly more experienced than he was. Once he had been attuned to the Aether of the Crystal Tower, his bodily needs had all but ceased. He never took on a lover — had never felt the urge to. 

On one hand, he doesn’t mind having her be his first. On another, he knows he’ll be disappointed if she doesn’t finish. He wants her to cum. The thought of making her orgasm actually sends a thrill through him. He knows that he will, no matter what ends up happening. His body is so sensitive that just hearing her moan the other day had him spilling over without so much as a touch. His hands are experienced with many things, but a lover is not one of them. 

After stressing over it for hours alone in the ocular, G’raha picks himself up and heads toward the library. If he cannot focus on anything meaningful, he might as well do what he’s best at: research.

-

“I’m here to speak with the Exarch,” A’zaela says to the guard posted outside of the Crystal Tower. After taking out her frustration on the local fauna, she decided against diving into the lake and instead spent a good chunk of time just gathering her thoughts. Now, a week has passed since her heat ended, and she knows she can’t avoid her problems anymore. Not that she truly wanted to avoid G’raha. She had just been saying that she needed to make up for lost time. She still means it.

“I believe he’s out, currently. My apologies, I’m not privy to where he went,” the guard says with an apologetic smile.

“Oh,” A’zaela says, trying hard not to look disappointed. She returns the smile and nods. “Just let him know I was around then, if you would. If he’s busy, he should focus on that.” 

The Crystarium Guard nods, and then A’zaela’s off, heading back down the stairs and toward the Aetheryte plaza.

When she had landed in the First, she had been angry. Confused and upset over what had befallen her allies. Now, she finds herself often staring up at the Crystal Tower, wishing more than anything that she didn’t have to go back. 

A pang of guilt flashes through her. She shouldn’t think that way. There were so many in Eorzea that needed her aid. She had family there, not to mention the friends she had left behind. 

Yet...

Norvrandt had found its way into her heart, and she realized that even if the Crystal Exarch hadn’t turned out to be her long lost friend, she would still feel the same way about it. In Eorzea, she had become too big for herself. Stretched too thin, with too many parts of her broken, and no one able to help her pick up the pieces. 

She still remembers the shock she felt when the Exarch begged her to rest. The Scions were her biggest allies, but it always felt as though they were apologizing for not letting her rest, instead of pushing her to bed themselves. Even that changed here — how many times had Y’shtola scolded her for not resting? 

A’zaela closes her eyes and leans back, letting the sun kiss her face. The outline of the Crystal Tower floats lazily behind her eyes. She always felt a connection to it. Back on the Source, she had been drawn to it’s mystery like a moth to the flame. Was that why she felt at peace here?

“A’zaela?” a familiar voice calls.

She jumps and opens her eyes.

“Exarch,” she says, his title rolling off her lips like a contented sigh. She smiles and regards him carefully. As much as she’d like to call him by his name, they had never discussed it. He kept his hood up, and she kept his true name close to her heart, only letting it out behind closed doors. 

“A’zaela,” he says, rather breathlessly. “I didn’t know you’d returned.” 

“I only just got back,” she replies. “Are you okay? You seem out of sorts.” 

A smile plays on his lips, but she can tell right away that it isn’t one of pleasure, but of nervousness. Her own worry begins to grow as she watches him fidget. 

“I’m just fine, I assure you. I was just invested in some research.” Though she can’t see under his hood, she can almost feel the way his smile meets his eyes. 

“Ah, of course. I will let you get back to it, then,” she replies. “I’ll be around the Mean for a while, then I may retire to my room.” She steps forward and puts her hand in his, then squeezes lightly. 

“Just call if you need me, okay?” She asks. 

G’raha cannot help the way his heart flips in his chest when she smiles at him. He stammers out a reply he cannot remember and watches her walk away, his gaze inexplicably drawn to her hips until she’s out of his line of sight entirely. 

-

He finds her later that evening where he usually does. Tucked away carefully near the window, staring out at the endless expanse of stars. One might think it was she who went a hundred years without them with how reverent her gaze looks. 

He’d asked her about it once. Why she spends so much of her night gazing skyward. Her answer never left him. 

“The stars remind me that I’m not alone anymore. Somewhere, I have an ally under them. Besides...someone once told me that I would become a star. That they would chart my course in the future. I have forgotten many things, but I have not forgotten that.” 

His heart twists at the memory. 

“Raha,” she says when she notices him. While normally hyper aware of her surroundings, A’zaela tends to lose herself in the night sky. She smiles and turns her body toward him. 

“Good evening,” he says, removing his hood and letting his ears free. 

“Did you need something?” She asks, moving to stand. “I’m sorry for the mess, I wasn’t thinking much about company. Not that I’m upset that you came, of course—“

“Can you describe your heat for me?” He asks, blurting the words out before he can stop himself. The sentence hangs heavily over them, and she looks at him with wide eyes. Her tail flicks nervously behind her, but she gives a quick nod in response. 

“U-um...yes. I can. Here, let’s...sit. I can get you some water, or...” 

She starts to head toward the kitchen that her room holds, but he reaches out and takes hold of her hand. His touch his both gentle yet firm. She can pull away if she wishes...but she doesn’t. 

“I’m so sorry. Please allow me to explain. Ever since we spoke last, I...I’ve done some research. A female going into heat is incredibly rare, and I began to worry that... that if we...tried anything in the future, it would come back. I could tell right away when it overcame you, and more than that, I felt your discomfort with it the entire time.” 

A’zaela’s heart races. Her mind focuses on his hand on her wrist. 

“And?” 

“And...there is a chance it will come back. But...if we start...” he clears his throat. He can feel his face burning. “Being together like that, there’s higher chance that...I will go into heat.” 

“Oh,” A’zaela says, her gaze dropping to the floor. Disappointment courses through her. “That...would not be ideal.” 

“No,” G’raha acknowledges with a nod. “Which is why I ask what it feels like. I’d like to create a tonic to push against the effects.” 

She stares at him dumbly for a good moment or two. She opens her mouth and closes it, feeling silly. 

“Raha, I can’t ask you to...go into heat for me. T-that’s...so inconvenient, and we’re both...such busy people.” 

G’raha shakes his head. “Last I recall, you didn’t ask for anything. I’m asking you because I want it. I don’t care about the setbacks. And if it turns out that we can’t stop the effects...Even if I only get to spend one night with you, it would be enough.” 

He brings her hand to his lips and gently kisses her fingers. Her eyes meet his, and she feels herself soften. His expression is so kind, so familiar. So full of love. 

“Two hundred years, Zaela. All I want is a night.” 

“...I’d give you more than a night,” she whispers. “I’d give you my mornings, my afternoons, my evenings. Any time you wanted me. If I went into heat or if you did.” She swallows and looks away. “How selfish I am. You waited for so long, yet I ache after five years of your absence.” 

They’re close now, having drawn together in the heat of the moment. They come together, and just before lips touch, A’zaela speaks. G’raha can feel every word she speaks, every breath she takes.

“I knew I was in heat because of you,” she says. “I felt you beneath me, and a fire burned in my stomach. It was...the noise you made. It...was so full of need that I…”

She takes his hand and places it flat against her stomach. 

“That’s where it starts,” she explains. “A sudden...ache. A need. And it rises...”

So does his hand. Over her clothing, up to her chest. Directly on top of her heart.

“I felt my pulse pick up. They call it a heat for a reason. Everything is just...so warm. Stiflingly so. No matter what I did, I couldn’t cool off.”

She takes a breath, and he can feel her chest rise beneath his fingers. 

“A-And then I...could...smell you. I-I hate saying it like that. Just...you overpowered every thought I had. You must have triggered it, so...my body focused on you. For days, I knew when you would come to place linens outside my door long before you arrived. It was...” she struggles for words, grinding her teeth. “Intoxicating. It took...so much self restraint to keep from begging you to come inside. To keep myself from pulling you inside. If I was fire, you were the water my body needed to be put out. Resisting those urges...only spread the flames further. Faster.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. It’s the only thing he can muster. His words had dried up in his throat imagining her once more at the mercy of her heat. 

“It was my choice,” she says. “And...I don’t regret it. I want you to have me. Not the feral part of me.” she shakes her head. “It might have been fine for someone else. Not for you.” She places her hand over his. Over her heart. 

“Will you take me?” She whispers.

Without hesitation, he thinks. He doesn’t realize he says it aloud. He’s already too busy.

G’raha snakes his arm around her neck and brings them into a kiss. Within seconds, their tongues touch and their eyes slide shut. 

“I’m not done,” she gasps when they pull away. Their foreheads touch, their breath mingling as they try to catch it. 

“By the time you came to my door, I was a lost cause,” she explains. “I had already been touching myself. It’s agony not to. The pleasure is so strong it’s painful. Hearing your voice behind the door, having your scent so close...”

Her mouth hangs open for a moment, and by the distant look in her eyes, he can tell she’s reliving the moment. 

“After seeing you, it took seconds, Raha. Seconds. And...orgasming while in heat is nothing like I’ve ever experienced. It’s so strong it shakes your entire body. Seconds of pure bliss before you’re thrown back into the fire. It’s shameful, it’s embarrassing, it’s...”

She looks at him straight on. “Bearable. Only because I had you.”

Their lips meet again, and hands fumble to remove clothing without separating. Once her pants are off, they go to slip off his robe, which has them part in the end anyway. 

“Tell me more,” he begs, breath hot on her skin. He has her pushed against the wall, and he moves from her mouth to her jaw, then lower, tracing kisses across her neck. The way her breath hitches sends thrills of pleasure through him. 

“M-my body wanted you,” she explains through the fog of passion. “D...did I already say that? I...”

Her sentence stops short when he puts his hand under her bra. His fingers dance lightly across her nipple, and he finds himself in awe at how it hardens at his touch. 

“Every fantasy was of you,” she manages. “It was never my hand to bring me to completion. It was yours. Your fingers, your mouth, your c—aah!” 

His crystal hand had slipped between her thighs, and the cold from it had sent a wave of pleasure through her that she hadn’t been expecting. She trembles as his cold fingers trace circles over her inner thigh. 

“What was your favorite?” He asks, a wave of confidence settling over him. He wants to make those fantasies come true. All of them. He distantly understands that his body has limitations, but he can’t truly think beyond the throb of his cock and the thought of being buried inside of her multiple different ways. 

Heart pounding, A’zaela takes a moment to respond. It’s hard to conjure them now. Having him in front of her made the images easy to push away in favor for the real thing. 

“Behind,” she admits. “Y-you would...lean me over the table a-and...” 

Her shirt comes off. He unclips her bra and tosses it aside. For a moment, her mind is solely focused on his tongue on her nipple, and his fingers digging into her hips. 

“You’d have me watch,” she grinds out. “There would be a mirror. You’d fuck me in front of it. You’d play with my tail and just...fill me.” 

“Is that what you want me to do to you now?” He asks. 

“No,” she says, which startles him. He looks up at her with wide eyes. 

A’zaela reaches down and rubs her hand over his erection, which was visibly straining against his underwear. He gasps and leans forward into her touch. 

She sees now how much control she has. G’raha has no problem taking the lead, but in that instant, she saw how helpless he became against her touch. How needy he was. 

There might be a time where she takes advantage of that, but now was not that time.

“You can still take me on the table,” she breathes, “But I want to be facing you. That’s what I want from our first time.” 

With another kiss, G’raha hooks his arms under her legs and lifts her with a surprising amount of strength. She gasps and clings to him, smiling against his mouth. 

She knows how strong he is. Though his focus now is on arcana, she remembers a time when his arms were toned from archery. She remembers a robed figure wielding a sword and shield for her defense. Still, she was shocked at his strength, and incredibly turned on at being lifted fully into the air. 

The table is blissfully empty — A’zaela always cleans up after herself — and he is grateful for it. All he needs to do is move a few chairs aside before she’s laid out before him, looking up at him with a needy expression. He leans over her, arms on either side of her face and kisses her deeply. Her legs wrap around his torso, and he grinds helplessly against her. Both of them are still covered below the waist, and the fabric that separates them is suddenly an irritant against his skin. Nevertheless, he continues to kiss her and grind, reveling in the gasps and helpless noises she makes against his mouth. Her hands lightly cup either side of his face, a motion just short of begging to keep his mouth on hers. 

At some point, the heat becomes too much. He steps back and pulls her panties off with a quick tug and tosses them aside. His underwear come off next, and he notices how her eyes instantly train on his erection. He can’t tell if she’s impressed or not—her eyes are wide and her mouth is slightly open, and he decides to take that as a good sign. 

Before things continue, she stops him. She finds a condom. It’s a quick procedure, and she helps put it on. Her hands — he tries very hard not to focus on how her hands brush against his cock in case he spills over too early. 

He positions himself at her entrance, and even through the material he feels so much. She’s wet and hot, and as he slowly sinks inside, her legs tense around him, pulling him closer faster. He fills her to the hilt, and he lets out a moan that he can only describe as obscene. He’s shaking, and he can hardly believe this is happening. He slowly leans over her, so their chests touch and begins moving, slowly rocking in and out. 

A’zaela’s tail seeks his out, and they twine together as he finds his pace. Her hand finds the base of his tail and circles the area, and he stifles a gasp against her throat. 

“Faster,” she gasps. “Please, I...”

He complies. He speeds up, partly on her command and partly because he craves the sensation, his body naturally chasing it. He slips out once or twice, but he always positions himself back in and continues at the same pace. 

It’s her words that send him over the edge. 

“Yes! Please don’t stop!” She gasps, her face contorted into a mask of bliss. “You feel...so good—aah!” 

“Zaela, I—“

“Keep going,” she begs. “I’m so close. Please. Please!”

His trusts become sloppy, and he can feel her walls tightening around him. He wants to hold out longer, to fuck her longer—

But with the few final thrusts, A’zaela cries out, her back arching. “Yes! Raha, please!”

Together they chase the end of their orgasms, slowly untangling without separating. Their kisses change from ones of frantic passion to one born of a want to simply remain touching. A’zaela reaches behind his head and undoes his braid, brushing her fingers through it so it falls over his shoulders. He shivers at the sensation of her nails lightly caressing his scalp. 

“I’ve always loved your hair,” she murmurs. 

“I’ve always loved you,” he replies wistfully, his mouth against her throat. 

They both tense as they realize what he said. His eyes open wide, and he almost instantly pulls back, his face warming. Luckily, she saves him from saying something he’ll regret. 

“I’ve loved you too,” A’zaela says. She sits up, modestly covering her chest, as though they hadn’t just fucked on the table she ate at. She brushes a lock of hair out of her eyes, looking away from his bashfully, but smiling kindly. 

“I...ah, didn’t realize it at first. I thought I lost you twice. Both times you captured my heart before I even had the luxury of realizing it for myself. Did you know that after the fight with the Cloud of Darkness, I came back to your tent to confess?” 

The thought struck him twice like a slap. His first thought was, ‘She was going to confess?’ then the second was only the vision of her being held back by Cid, tears streaming down her face as she reached for him moments before the doors to the Crystal Tower slid shut. 

“Then...on the hill, overlooking Kholusia, before we climbed Mt. Gulg. I wanted to say that I thought it was you. But I couldn’t work up the courage.” 

Before G’raha can stop them, tears spill over his cheeks. He pushes his palm against his eye, wiping them away quickly, but A’zaela’s hands are already there, frantically waving, trying to figure out what she did wrong. 

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean--I just--” 

G’raha shakes his head. “What a fool I’ve been,” he says, unable to stop his voice from wavering. 

“G’raha?” A’zaela whispers. 

He places a hand on her cheek and lightly kisses her. She can taste the salt on his lips. 

“Can you say it again?” he asks pleadingly. 

A’zaela reaches up and takes him gently by the wrist. 

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more part after this, which will basically just be them mindlessly fucking, because yes, he ends up going into heat, lmao.   
most of the miqo'te heat stuff are things I headcanon specifically for this piece, it may or may not reflect other things i write in the future  
yes, a'zaela can orgasm vaginally, she's one of the very few characters I have that I HC that can do that due to miqo'te anatomy   
if there are typos, holler at me, I've read this over like 4 times but I don't think I am physically capable of reading it again 
> 
> anyway, thanks for reading! follow me at @thelegendofivalice on tumblr or @gillspeaks1819 on twitter


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the ending, tying up all the loose ends. tragically she doesn't get tied up, but maybe in the next one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm a goddamn idiot. i am a fool. an ABSOLUTE bird for brains. why did I NOT name this fanfic "HEAT OF THE MOMENT" ??  
anyway. when the name of this fic changes WE ALL KNOW WHY.

When G’raha told her that he knew the moment she started her heat, she hadn’t fully understood. Now she did. 

She smelled it on him long before he came to her door. Distantly, she realized that it made sense—pheromones. To attract a partner. It was the entire concept that Nunh’s were based off of. And despite her general dislike for Nunh’s, she thought, for only a moment, that she understood the hierarchy, as archaic as it was. 

He slips into her room in the Pendants late one evening, his face red and his breath heavy. A’zaela turns from what she’s doing to look at him, and when their eyes meet, she freezes. She takes in a quiet breath, and he watches her pupils dilate. 

She’s on her feet in seconds. She doesn’t say anything as her fingers fumble to help him out of his robe. She remembers with the sharpest clarity how hard it had been to keep her clothes on while in heat, and she can’t imagine how uncomfortable he must be. 

When the heavy material hits the ground, G’raha puts his head on her shoulder and lets out a groan. “I must admit...I severely underestimated these symptoms,” he says. His skin is flushed and sensitive. He aches for touch in the worst way. When she finally does reach up to touch him, he gasps, a sharp intake of breath through his teeth. Embarrassment snakes through him; she’d only touched his head. 

A’zaela pets him behind the ear absentmindedly, a strange calm filling her. 

“Do you want my help?” she asks. 

“I...” he starts, but hesitates. His mind is still clear enough to remember how she refused his aid when she needed it. He looks up at her, a hunger in his eyes. He can’t shape his worries on his tongue — they’d take up too much time that could be spent touching her. He inches their faces closer, wordlessly begging her to kiss him. It’s all he can manage. His mind is scrambled, and his is screaming at him, telling him to  _ get her clothes off and fuck her. _ He can’t think beyond that. 

A’zaela looks at him, understanding filling her eyes. She presses a finger to his lips, and his first instinct is to suck on it. She doesn’t give him the chance. Wordlessly, she goes down on her knees, dragging her fingers down his chest as she does. Her hands pull down his boxers, then she watches calmly as his erection springs free. 

He still wants to fuck her. Some primal part of him is begging him to take control, to rip her pants off, lean her over and just lose himself in her. But as her mouth closes over his cock, tongue swirling over the head, that voice is all but silenced. He throws his head back in bliss, breath coming in uneven gasps as she pleasures him. Her one hand gently fondles him, while the other traces circles around the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. 

His hands tangle in her hair, and he realizes how difficult it is to not jerk his hips in response to her sucking. That urge to  _ fuck _ is still there, to thrust and cum, but he tries desperately to hold it back. This is _ A’zaela _ , not his hand, and she deserves more respect than him mindlessly fucking her mouth. More than that, even through the fog of his desire he can’t consider doing anything that may accidentally her. Even if his hips are pushing forward without him telling them to. 

Suddenly, a new sensation takes over him. A’zaela’s tongue flicks over the head of his cock again, and a deep vibration comes from within her throat. He can feel it through his hands, and even fiercer on his cock. 

She’s purring. 

He looks down at her, and the sight of her almost sends him over. She’s on her knees, still fully clothed, her legs spread in front of him. His hands are still in her hair, but at some point he had started lightly caressing her ears. Her tail thrashes happily behind her, and she’s currently staring up at him with wide, beautiful eyes that tell him how much she’s enjoying herself. When their eyes meet, she winks, then closes both of them and continues sucking, purring louder. 

“Zaela,” he gasps. “I’m going to—“

Before he can even finish his sentence, he cums. She didn’t pull back from him, didn’t even try to. She lets him finish in her mouth, continuing her purrs to let him ride it out fully. 

After the haze of lust lifts, guilt fills him instantly. He’d just cum in her mouth. With hardly any warning. He panics. 

“I-I’m—Wicked White, A’zaela, I’m so sorry,” he gasps. The heat is still there, duller now, but still in the back of his mind. He has enough sense to look around and try to find something for her to spit into, but she’s already climbing to her feet, shaking her head. 

“G’raha,” she says gently. She kisses his cheek, which is the same shade of red as his hair. “I wanted to.”

“You—oh,” he says, stupefied. 

She blushes as well, a half smile painting a look of nervousness on her face. 

“I...take pleasure in making my partner...release. So don’t apologize. I enjoyed myself.”

He puts his hand to her cheek and brings them together with a kiss. For a few moments, just touching her is enough. He kisses her deeply, savoring every moment until his body begins to ache for more. She had been right before — there was such little time post orgasm before he felt the urge to go again. The thought of her feeling the same way as he did during her own heat is a pleasant image to his hormone addled brain. 

Before he knows what he’s doing, G’raha has A’zaela gathered in his arms and is carrying her to the bed. She lets out a pleasant gasp of surprise against his mouth, and she smiles as she lands against the sheets. 

“Do you have any—?”

“Yes,” she says breathlessly. “Though I doubt I have enough.” 

He resists the urge to whine. Not having enough condoms means there will be a time where he’ll be without her, and he can’t stand the thought. 

But that’s a problem for later. Far later, he hopes. She’s undressing, and the second her pants come off, G’raha loses any coherent train of thought. All he can do is drag his mouth down her body, leaving gentle marks on her skin as he goes. When he reaches her hips, he settles himself between her legs, pushing them apart so he can bring all of her to bear. 

His tongue lavishes her with attention she clearly wants. Though his cock aches to be inside her, he can keep himself occupied with his hand as he eats her out. The sounds she makes when he teases her clit sends pleasant shivers through him, keeping his mind preoccupied. 

Making him cum had turned her on. How could he not reward her with an orgasm after she said that? Twelve take him — he was the same way, and he was only doing what he would do if he weren’t in heat. 

The good thing about being in heat was that once he had made her cum, he could keep going. And Gods, does he want to keep going. Not only has he waited 300 years for her, for this, but she deserves it more than anyone. The Warrior of Light deserved such a reprieve. And he was only too glad to give it. 

A’zaela’s climax is loud — louder than he would have expected from her. He remembers the first time they made love— she had been loud then, too — and he realizes how much she must trust him to be so vocal. There was once a time his Warrior was so quiet that she was practically mute. Now she was squeezing his head with her thighs and gasping his name with such reverence that it bordered on holy. 

Needless to say, he came with her. 

After cleaning himself up, he climbs up the bed and settles on top of her, pressing kisses to her body as he goes. She looks down at him with a lazy, pleased expression as he circles his tongue over her nipple. 

“How are you feeling?” she asks, running her fingers through his hair. 

“Better,” he sighs. G’raha looks down at her and just marvels at the sight. No matter how many times he’s seen or fantasized about her body, he finds himself surprised when he looks upon it again. It’s beautiful, yes, but it’s  _ her _ — and he can hardly believe he’s on top of her, sharing her bed, touching her. He had resigned himself to loneliness for so long. To be with her now is a dream come true. 

“I don’t expect you to focus on my pleasure,” A’zaela says, her voice taking on an almost dreamy tone. He kisses her, aimless in his passion but needing to feel her skin on his lips. She shivers and lets out a breath. “I remember how hard it is to do anything else but focus on the heat. So don’t worry about me. Just let go for a few hours, G’raha. You deserve it. Just let me know what you want me to do.”

With his thoughts going hazy again, he kisses her mouth, slow and sensual. She spreads her legs wider for him, an open invitation. He isn’t quite ready yet — but he will be. 

“It’s strange,” he admits, his voice sounding odd even to his own ears. Deeper, filled with the same lust that courses through his body. “I want to be inside you.” 

He rubs his cock against her, not entering, but sliding over her, almost to prove a point. Her sharp intake of breath is deeply gratifying. 

“But I can’t help but be filled with this need to make you cum with me. My body wants something simple — a base instinct. Yet my mind and heart yearn for more. As much as I want ... haah—” he moans, rubbing against her again, feeling how wet she is. Already the heat is taking him over. “—To lose myself...I want you to enjoy it. To enjoy me.” 

Reaching over to her nightstand, A’zaela fumbles to find a condom. 

“I have been enjoying myself,” she says, slowly putting it on him. “I enjoyed myself to thoughts of you for three days, Raha. It’s your turn to indulge.” 

So he does. With a snap of his hips, he’s inside of her entirely, as though a magnetic force had brought them together. A’zaela lets out a yelp of surprise, but by the way her nails dig into his hips, trying to bring him closer, he can tell he hadn’t hurt her. She had been prepared for him, slick from her previous orgasm and her legs spread wide. 

G’raha loses himself in her. For a minute, he cannot think of anything beyond how hard, how fast and how long he can fuck her. He bring himself out only to bury himself fully in again. Harder. Faster. His hands are on her hips, keeping her still as he works. His breath comes in short pants, and a line of sweat drips down his cheek. He opens his eyes to see A’zaela looking up at him, pure understanding etched on her features, and through the haze of his heat, he can only think of one thing:  _ I love you _ . 

He doesn’t say it aloud. He could; they’ve said it to one another many times by now, but he’s so overwhelmed by the heat, by his feelings, that he can’t manage it. He takes in a shuddering breath and focuses on what he’s doing, moving one thumb to her clit to rub as he fucked her. 

“G’raha,” she moans, her eyes slipping shut. His eyes snap to her face, drinking in the way her lips part in her bliss, how her breasts bounce in tandem with his movements. Most of all, he waits for her to say his name again, mentally begging her to do so. 

When she does, the effect is instant. With a final thrust, he cums for the third time that evening, a cry of pleasure escaping him as he chases the final throes of his orgasm. He falls against her, not making any moves to leave her body. He just moves in and kisses her, savoring the calm while it lasts. 

“I love when you say my name,” he admits shyly. “I haven’t heard it in so long. It...”

A’zaela responds by kissing him again and again, whispering his name against his mouth until he’s hard again. 

If it meant he could be with her, like this, for as long as he can, with his name spilling from her lips, he would suffer through this heat and many more, for as long as necessary. 

-

At some point, they fall asleep. He loses count of how many more times they make love — it could have been one, it could have been several. All he knows is that when he rolls over, an exhaustion takes him into one of the deepest sleeps he’s had in centuries. He had forgotten how good orgasms were for rest. 

But when he wakes again, his heat roars within him, and a helpless groan spills from his lips. His mind swirls with lewd thoughts that instantly chase any exhaustion away. He turns over to find A’zaela, to grab her and continue where they left off, but he finds her asleep beside him, her back turned to him. 

_ Fuck her. Taste her. Mate her. Fuck, fuck, fuck _ . His mind begs him to grab her, to turn her over and cum inside her. He remembers her telling him to wake her if he needed, and he hates that he considers doing just that. She needed the rest — but he can’t stop himself. He needs to touch her the same way he needs to breathe. It’s almost painful not to. 

Quietly, and agonizingly slow, G’raha moves closer to her, pressing his body up against her back. He moves her hair away from the nape of her neck and starts planting kisses there. His hand fondles her tail, sweeping over the base of it before lightly tugging it up between them. 

The noise she makes is a mix between a shout and a moan, so deeply erotic that he feels it go straight to his cock. If he weren’t hard already, that would have gotten him there instantly. 

She claps her hands over her mouth and turns slightly to look back at him. 

“G’raha?” She asks breathlessly. 

He ruts helplessly against her back at the sound of his name. He wasn’t going to last long at this rate. He would be embarrassed if he thought that after she’d seen him like this that he’d have any dignity left. 

“Zaela,” he whispers, pressing more kisses to the back of her neck. In fact, it’s the only thing he can say — the only word that his mind can conjure. 

It’s almost as if she can read his mind. Perhaps she can, considering that it wasn’t that long ago that she was in his same predicament. She turns around so she’s facing him, and he whines. He wants her, but his body wants a certain position—it wants to mate her. To mark her as his. He wants that spot on her neck, that moan that tumbled from her as he held up her tail. 

She kisses him once, twice, then she sits up and grabs something from the nightstand. Though only for a few moments, he feels the loss of her body heat acutely. 

“I know,” she coos. “Just a moment.” 

He sits up and watches as she opens the bottle of lube and spreads some on her fingers. She reaches down and rubs it over herself, eyes fluttering slightly as she does. Then she moves closer to him and does something similar to him, spreading the lubricant over his cock with a few strokes. He twitches against her hand, the sudden slickness earning her a gasp. 

She closes the bottle and sets it down beside the bed. Her face turns a pretty shade of red as she positions herself down on all fours in front of him. 

He doesn’t need to be told what to do. Within seconds, he’s behind her, positioning himself at her entrance. It feels so natural to be behind her, almost easy. He recalls her telling him that this had been a fantasy of hers during her heat, and he immediately understands why. His only regret is that he couldn’t conjure a mirror to have them both watch as he fucked her. It was so lewd—something he’d never come up with himself, considering how much he’d come to resent the crystals that ate over his body — but for her? He’d try anything. 

G’raha enters her slowly, and a gasp spills from his lips as the lube aids the process. They must have slept for a few hours; she was tighter now than she had been, and despite his heat’s protest, he had to take it slower. She adjusted to him quickly, and made no sounds of protest when he started moving. Her tail curled around his wrist, and she started purring when he adjusted so his chest was against her back. It made his thrusts shallower, but it was a small price to pay to gain access to that spot on her neck that he so desperately wanted to mark. 

G’raha never thought of himself as possessive. He had always been more willing to let things go if it meant someone else would be happier with it. But he had let go of her once, and had been prepared to do it again. 

Not this time. He bit down on the sensitive part of her neck, and he claimed her as his. Not just for the night. Not just because he was in heat. But because he had never wanted anything more than to be by her side, and he was finally able to admit that to himself. 

A’zaela moans, then whispers, “Yes, G’raha, yes...!” She moves with him, her breath heavy as she begs him for more. A similar reaction he had gotten before, he distantly realized, but he wasn’t able to make any connections as to why the bite had this effect on her. 

By the time they finish, her back is covered in love bites. She had cum from the incessant attention he had given her neck, and even though he had been fully inside as she came, he hadn’t finished. It led him to take his time with her, focusing on kissing and biting her shoulders and back. When he finally finished, she flipped onto her back and looked up at him with glassy eyes. 

He moves in to lay on top of her, and they kiss once, happily. 

“How long were we asleep?” He asks against her mouth. She moves her head to glance at the chronometer on the wall. 

“Maybe an hour and thirty minutes,” she replies. His eyes widen in astonishment.  _ It hadn’t been that long at all.  _

“I’m so sorry, Zaela, I thought—“ 

“I know,” she says, laughing. He can feel the vibrations against his chest. “Sleeping is torture during your heat. I know all too well. I’m surprised you didn’t wake me sooner.” 

“I didn’t want to wake you at all,” he admits. He nuzzles his face into her shoulder. 

She hums and smiles. She runs her fingers through his hair for a moment, lost in thought. 

Before he knows what’s happening, she’s flipped their positions. He’s laying flat on his back, looking up at her with wide, shocked eyes. She smiles down at him sweetly, bringing their faces together to kiss him. 

“Let me take the lead for now,” she says. “Considering you just mated me like a Nunh would — it’s the least I can do.” 

G’raha felt embarrassment snake up his body, and his face lights up in a blush as fiercely red as his hair. 

“W-wait—I did  _ what _ ?” He asks, astonished. 

A’zaela laughs. “That’s what that position was. The tail pulling, the neck biting—those are all things a Nunh does on instinct.” 

He stammers, staring up at her, at a complete loss for words. But as she says the words, he registers them as true: though he had never been in a tribe long enough to understand the mating habits of seekers, it was the only thing that could explain how he’d been compelled to act in the heat of the moment. 

A’zaela kisses him again. He jolts — every time their lips meet, it still feels like the first time. 

“Don’t worry. My hair is long enough to cover most of them. I won’t show them.” She smiles and laughs a little. “Unless you want me to.” 

And as they start up again, he can’t help but imagine how happy it would make him to have her walk around the Crystarium with his marks showing for all to see. Because finally,  _ finally, _ he doesn’t have to hide from the world anymore. 

He was G’raha Tia, lover of the Warrior of Light and Darkness, and one of the saviors of the First. 

He smiles against her lips. He rather liked the sound of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for all the support! this fic has been very fun for me to write, and even more exciting to get all the feedback. I may put up more au-type smut in the future if I'm feeling spicy (and I've been feeling spicy since shadowbringers came out, so it's almost to be expected.) 
> 
> have a good one guys, and thanks for reading.
> 
> also I literally did not even BEGIN to edit this. sorry I can't read my own smut anymore, LMFAO...


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